


Keeping Time

by PattyGoesRhar



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/F, F/M, I think Snowing is the only uncomplicated couple in this, Time Travel Gone Wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-12 15:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10494117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PattyGoesRhar/pseuds/PattyGoesRhar
Summary: Apparently manipulation is genetic, Emma Swan thinks as she arrives in a Storybrooke very similar to the one we know. The town is run by the boy's strict and severe adoptive mother, but Emma quickly realizes that the woman's control is only a facade. It's not her, nor the enigmatically smug Mr. Gold who run things, but a shadowy figure no one can give her any information on.While finding out more about the town and her son's crazy theories, Emma learns that what goes around comes around...*******A story of time travel gone wrong. Hopefully around six chapters. Starts in season 1. No really intense ships, but mentions of CS, OQ, SQ, Rumbelle, RedBeauty, Gremma, Hunting Queen, basically everybody (my headcanon is that everybody from the EF is bisexual because why not), but don't go looking for romance or even happy endings. Pretty sure only Snowing gets a pass in here, but it's essential to the plot because, well, you'll see.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This starts in season 1, as Emma is driving Henry into Storybrooke. A lot is different. Some new faces, a lot of tweaked storylines. Questions, comments, and conspiracy theories are welcomed. Catch me on Tumblr @PattyGoesRhar, where I will reblog copious gifts, photos of food, and the occasional doodle.
> 
> Unbeta'd and long as shit.

Emma Swan jabbed uselessly at the switch for the bug's rear defogger and sighed, catching sight of it in her rear-view mirror. As she did, her sight lingered on the dozing figure in the back seat. 

The boy she'd given up ten years ago had come to find her on her 28th birthday and blackmailed her into driving him the 200+ miles to his nowhere town of Storybrooke. Squinting through the streaky windshield, she sighed as a sign welcoming her to her destination came into view and then blew past them. 

“Hey!” She stage-whispered in the darkened car. Henry groaned and blinked sleepily up at her. “Kid, we're here! Where to now?” 

The kid heaved a put-upon sigh and leaned forward, pointing to the right. “Turn here, and then a left, and then another right in...” He scrunched up his nose in a way that reminded her entirely too much of Neal. “Four blocks?” 

“I know you're only ten, but the fact that you're not sure isn't filling me with a lot of confidence at bullshit o'clock, kid,” Emma groused as she slowed to take the sudden turn on the slick, unfamiliar roads. 

“You swore in front of me!” Henry shot back. 

Emma winced. “Yeah, well, you already know I'm not exactly used to being around kids, now don't you.” She took the last turn and slowed down, letting out a low whistle. “Ritsy neighbourhood.” 

She caught sight of Henry rolling his eyes at her in the rear-view mirror. “Mine is the big white one...” He muttered, clearly unimpressed. 

Emma felt her jaw drop as she rolled to a stop. The rain had stopped in time for her to get a clean view of the beautifully manicured white estate. “Holy shit! Why the hell would you run away from this?!” 

She swung her door open and came around to let the kid out just as a woman with a short-ish haircut and looking too put-together for past one in the morning opened the front door to let out a handsome man-- who looked to be either local law enforcement or maybe one of those strippers who do house visits-- out into the night. 

“Is that her?” Emma asked Henry, who was hanging back by the car, stone-faced and not looking at the other woman. Yup, definitely his mom, then. “Uh, ma'am? I, uh, I brought Henry home...” She trailed off as the woman turned an irritated look her way, then watched as her pursed lips turned down into a frown and her brow furrowed. 

It lasted for half a second and then it was like a switch had been flipped. The woman's eyes widened, filling with tears as her mouth widened into a painful looking smile. 

“Henry!” She rushed down the walkway in too-damned-high heels and moved to pull her son into what was probably gonna be a bone-crusher of a hug, but the boy ducked under her arms and ran into the house. 

“You didn't even care that I was gone!” He called back as he rushed up the stairs, two at a time, shoes still on and Emma could see them muddying up the white carpet from her awkward stance at the curb. 

“Henry, of course I-- Why do you think Graham-- ?” Her son long gone, her replies died off and she turned to face Emma and her trusty yellow rustbucket. “Thank you for bringing him home, Miss...?” The woman took three tentative steps towards Emma but suddenly stopped herself, trying valiantly to force her anguished grimace into a smile. 

“Uh, Swan,” Emma supplied, hopping onto the curb and stepping forward to offer her hand to the brunette. “Emma Swan.” 

“Thank you, Miss Swan,” she cleared her throat. “My name is Regina Mills.” She took a short breath. “I'm actually the mayor of Storybrooke.” 

“Oh.” Emma's face froze. “Uh, cool gig.” 

Regina let out a breath that almost-- almost-- sounded like a laugh. “Quite.” She smoothed down her dress and squared her shoulders. “I actually pride myself on being able to recognize my constituents... But I don't recognize you.” 

“Me neither,” the cute guy-- Did she say Graham? Came strutting out of the house where Emma guessed he'd gone to check Henry over. “Where exactly did Henry run away to?” 

“He found me at my place in Boston?” 

“Bos- Boston?!” Regina paled. “How did he-- ? Why Boston?” 

“Why would he have sought you ought specifically?” Graham asked, hooking his thumbs behind his belt like a good little country cop stereotype. “Are you a police officer?” 

Emma felted her heart drop a little bit. She'd been hoping to escape unscathed from this shitstorm. “Uh, I'm... Henry thinks I'm his birth mother.” 

Regina's confidence seemed to drain out of her. “You're-- You're Henry's... Birth mother?” Her voice came out strangled. 

“I... Yeah, I think so,” Emma confirmed. “He knew all the details. Must've found the files.” 

“It was a closed adoption,” Henry's mother replied, her voice suddenly clipped and eyes stormy. “If you're here to start anything-- .” 

“Whoa, whoa,” Emma threw her hands up. “The kid came and found me. I know what I did when I gave him up. I'm not 'looking' for anything,” she assured the older woman, making finger quotes. “He's home, he's safe, I'm gonna head home and I hope I don't wake up to him pounding on my door again in a week. Now,” Emma slipped her hands into the pockets of her red jacket and took a few steps backwards towards the bug, “You're welcome, have a nice life, and try to keep a better handle on the kid, okay, Regina?” 

The mayor bristled at the dig but Emma just smirked at her and slipped into the idling car. She stepped on the clutch and was about to put it into gear when an unbidden thought made her frown. She swung the door open again and planted one foot on the pavement so she could give one more look at the home of the kid she spawned. 

“Regina!” 

Regina spun around mid-walk-back-inside to quirk a haughty eyebrow at Emma. Graham, who by now Emma was pretty sure was actually law enforcement (and just happened to also be stupid pretty), lat his hand drop from the small of her back. 

“The kid has a lot to say about this place,” Emma started, raising her own eyebrows in challenge. “A lot about you.” 

Regina sighed. “Your point, Miss Swan?” 

Emma narrowed her eyes at Regina and cocked her head. She took a steadying breath through her nostrils to centre herself. “Do you love him?” 

The kid's mom reeled back like she'd been slapped before her face drew into a snarl. “What kind of question is that?” She took a menacing step forward but was halted by Graham's hand on her bicep. “Of course I love my son!” She wrenched herself free of the sherriff's hold. “Now get the hell out of my town!” 

Startled by the vehemence of her answer, Emma ducked back into the bug and made an admittedly sloppy U-turn to go back the way she'd come. She didn't look back and so she didn't see the mayor crumple into the sherriff's strong arms. She didn't need to. The mayor hadn't tripped her lie detector. 

Of course, this also meant that Emma didn't see the figure watching her, lurking in the shadows of the tall hedges on the side of the house. 

******* 

“'Now leaving Storybrooke.' Good,” she grumbled to herself, seeing the sign in the distance. “Happy fucking birthday, Emma. Looks like it's gonna be another banner yeaooOOLY SHIT!” 

Emma jerked the wheel to the left to avoid the wolf (The wolf? Were there even wolves in Maine?!) that had run into the road in front of her, skidded into the sign (so damned close!), and screamed as her piece of shit car slid firmly into a ditch. 

Not the most ideal way to learn that her beetle was apparently built before airbags were a thing. 

She groaned at the crick in her neck and groaned again as she saw flashing red and blue lights rolling up on the site. She unbuckled the seatbelt, silently patted herself on the back for actually remembering to wear it for once, and stumbled out of the car to meet a somehow simultaneously stern and amused looking Graham and his too-damned-bright flashlight. 

“You alright, there, Miss Swan?” he asked, offering a much-needed hand to help her up the middy incline. 

She nodded. “Yeah, yeah, mostly hurt my pride.” She frowned. “And my car.” 

“Alright, then,” he cheerily guided her to the back of the cruiser, “we can skip the trip to the hospital and go straight to the station.” 

“The station,” she balked. “For what?” 

“Well, destruction of public property, for one, and if I had to hazard a guess I might say driving under the influence.” 

“Hey, whoa, I was not drunk!” Emma argued. “I might've been going a little too fast, but...” She trailed off as Graham turned to smirk at her. “Uh, maybe the hospital's not such a bad idea? I think I got whiplash.” 

“Whiplash isn't real,” he retorted as they drove back to town. 

With nothing else to do, Emma turned back to the sight of her bug's tail lights shrinking in the distance and searched the treeline for the stupid mutt that made her crash. 

******* 

“There are no wolves in Maine,” Graham sighed at her as he opened the door to the cell the next morning. “But since you both were not actually drunk and our mayor has dropped the charges against you for damaging the sign, you're free to go.” 

Emma scowled at him as she passed. “It was totally a wolf, but I'd rather get the hell out of here than argue with me, so if you'll just toss me my keys, I'll be out of your hair.” 

“I'm afraid I can't do that.” The sheriff eased into the chair and propped his feet onto his desk. “See, we towed the car back into town, but you'll have to ask Michael Tillman for the keys.” 

“And who, pray tell, is Michael Tillman?” Emma rolled her eyes. 

“He owns the auto shop in town,” Graham smiled easily. “Your car's a bit of a mess right now.” 

******* 

“Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no no no, not the baby, no...” 

Emma could feel her lower lip fucking quivering at the sight of the bug's front end. As she mourned her oldest friend, a man with squirrelly eyes and broad shoulders stood up from behind the car, wiping his greasy hands on a shop towel. 

“She's a mess, but I'll get her running again,” he assured her. “Michael Tillman. I'd shake your hand, but...” He held up his dirty hands with a smile and a helpless shrug. 

“Emma Swan,” Emma muttered, still dismayed at the sight. “How, uh, how soon do you think you'll have it running?” 

Tillman scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Oh, about a week, I'm hoping.” 

“Hoping?” She didn't like the sound of that. 

“Yeah, hoping, unfortunately,” he admitted. “See, not a lot of call for VW parts, so I've got to order some stuff in. Our town's not a priority, so it might even take a little longer.” 

Fucking po-dunk, middle-of-nowhere bullshit. 

Emma let out a controlled breath through her nose. “So what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” 

“I'd grab a room at Hank's,” he gestured over her shoulder. 

Emma turned to see the glorified Waffle House she'd steadfastly avoided going to on her way to the auto shop. “Your advice is to drown my sorrows in biscuits and gravy?” 

Tillman chuckled. “Think you're getting your geographical tastes mixed up, but no. Hank runs the diner, but it's part of Granny's inn. You can get a room there for a couple of nights and she'll probably give you a good rate. Don't think she's actually had any rooms filled for... Heck, as long as I can remember.” 

“You've instilled me with so much excitement,” Emma deadpanned before moving to grab the duffle bag she'd hastily packed (and had hoped she wouldn't have to use) from the trunk, thanks Tillman, and ambled up to Hank's. 

******* 

Turns out the grease monkey was right; Emma was literally the only person currently staying at Granny's. Hell, the old lady had been shocked when she asked after ay vacancies and she had indeed given her a good rate. Said she couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to rent a room. So, now Emma was toweling off after a much needed shower, looking at her town-square view of Storybrooke and taking in all of the no sights this shitty little town apparently had to offer. 

She'd asked Granny, who told her to call her that because “everybody else does” because of course they do, about the places to check out in town and that stellar list comprised of the Rabbit Hole (a bar that Emma would no doubt be visiting), Hank's Diner (because apparently Granny wasn't above a little self-promotion), and the town library. 

The fucking library. 

Her stomach gave a fierce rumble and Emma deemed herself dry enough to venture down for a cheeseburger. Jogging down the steps and into the diner, she found the place to not be the greasy spoon she had been dreading but something maybe more like the little Greek diner a block down from her apartment in Boston. Just, y'know, without the Greek key design and the old bald dude shouting orders at his staff. 

“Ruby! C'mon, table three is waiting for their refills!” A man called over at the girl with a red streak in her hair and literally the shortest skirt Emma had ever seen (and she'd gone through a phase when she was in high school) as he walked through the swinging doors leading into the kitchen. He turned to give Emma a kind smile. “Sorry about that. The lunch rush is just starting and that young lady can be a space cadet sometimes. What can I get you?” 

Emma found herself smiling back at the older man, trying not to marvel at the man's odd combination of chrome dome and mutton chops. He had kind eyes, though, and an easy smile, and Emma knew to always trust that food made by anybody old and ethnic was gonna be tasty. That was probably a little racist of her, but she'd always found the best restaurants. “What do you have?” 

“Young lady, we have everything.” He beamed at her. “Well, not everything, of course, but we do have the best food in town. Name's Hank.” 

“Hence 'Hank's,'” Emma replied, gratefully taking the menu he slid her. They did have biscuits and gravy! The mechanic was wrong. “I'm Emma.” 

“Ah, the woman Granny's renting to.” 

“The one and only,” she let out a small laugh. 

“You got that right. Gracias, Ruby,” he told the waitress as she passed him by and ducked back into the kitchen. 

“No problemo, Hank-erino!” She tuked her tray under one arm and mock saluted him. The girl took in a breath and paused, casting a strange look at Emma before continuing on her way to seat a couple of new customers. 

Hank chuckled and turned back to Emma. “What do you like on the menu?” 

“Honestly, I could eat anything right now,” Emma admittedly, still looking the surprisingly vast menu over. “I think I'll start with a cheeseburger. Cheddar. Everything on it.” 

Hank smiles. “You want a fried egg on it? Avocado? Bacon?” 

“God, yes,” Emma sighed, thinking of all of the delicious, gastric-distress-causing wonderfulness that would soon be set in front of her. 

“It'll be out in a sec.” He grabbed a glass and filled it with ice. “Coke?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He set the full glass on the counter in front of her. “Okay, you're all set.” 

“Thanks, Hank.” 

“De nada, Miss Emma.” 

Hank strolled off to check on his other customers, leaving Emma to her thoughts. A week in this tiny little town, with just one other change of clothes, no car, her baby blanket that she really needed to stop feeling so compelled to take everywhere with her, and precisely zero fucks about anything or anyone in this place. 

The bell above the front door jingled and a voice joyfully called out, “Emma!” She watched as young Henry made a beeline for the barstool next to her and he climbed atop it. “I thought you left,” he pouted at her and stole a fry off the place that Ruby had just set in front of her. 

“Hey, kid,” Emma greeted half-heartedly. “You come here just to steal my fries?” 

Henry rolled his eyes. “I can buy own lunch if you're gonna be a baby about it.” 

Meanwhile, he stole two more of her fries. 

Emma aggressively shoved a handful of them into her mouth. “Aren't you fuppoffed t'be in fchool,” she accused. 

“I've already made seven birdhouses this year,” Henry huffed, making Emma quirk a confuse eyebrow at him. “And besides, none of this matters anyways.” He struggled to remove a massive leather-bound book from his backpack and let it slam onto the counter. “Sorry, Mr. Perez!” Henry winced at the exasperated look Hank threw him. “Now,” he turned his attention back to Emma, who was very conscious of the grease dripping down her chin as she took a hearty bite from her everything-imaginable-burger, “Let's get started. So, you remember I told you about the curse?” 

“You mean how your mom is actually the Evil Queen from Snow White?” Emma rolled her eyes, remembering his claims as he babbled at her from the back seat of the bug before tiring himself out and konking out. “And everybody here is under her spell?” 

“Yup!” He beamed. “Take a look here. Everybody in town is in this book. I think I've got everybody figured out.” He flipped a few pages and slammed his pointer finger onto an image of a woman in an opulent black dress dripping with jewels, her hair piled on her head, a sneer on her face, scowling at a dude in a trench coat who almost looked like-- . “That's Mr. Lopez. He's the Evil Queen's father.” He slid his finger to rest on the woman. “And that's her.” 

Emma squinted at the picture. “I mean, I guess it kinda looks like your mom,” she mused. “But, wait. Are you telling me Hank is your grandfather?” 

“Well, yeah, but he doesn't know it.” She could hear the unspoken obviously as he flipped back a few more pages. “Here's Granny and Ruby.” 

“Little Red Riding Hood?” Emma asked, casting a skeptical eye at the waitress who was chatting with a pretty brunette at the counter. “And who's she supposed to be.” 

“That's Belle,” Henry supplied easily. “But here she's Lacey French, Mr. Gold's wife.” 

“Who's Mr. Gold?” Emma asked, crumpling up her napkin and dropping it onto her empty plate. 

Henry's brow furrowed. “That I'm not actually sure about... But whoever he is, he's not a good guy. He owns half the town and eeeeeeeverybody's afraid of him. But it's weird because Lacey's really nice.” 

“Oh, yeah, she seems super nice.” Emma cast another glance at Lacey and Ruby, the latter of which was blushing furiously at the former's very low cut top as they leaned towards each other to gossip quietly over the counter. Emma turned her gaze back to Henry's book. “And who are they supposed to be? Snow White and Prince Charming?” She chuckled. 

“Yup! Also, your parents!” Henry smirked as she choked on her pop. “That's Miss Blanchard, my teacher,” he pointed to Snow White, “And that's Mr. Nolan. He works at the animal shelter and he's married to King Midas' daughter, who-- .” 

“Who, hold up,” Emma held up a hand. “Why are they divorced if they're supposed to be this great true love?” 

Henry rolled his eyes mightily. “He's not really married to her. It's all a part of the curse.” 

“Okay.” Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. “So, this curse stole everybody's memories and split families? And the only person you haven't figured out the identity of is who this Mr. Gold is.” 

“Well, him and the Sorceress,” Henry shrugged. “But I really doubt that they're the same person.” He ran his hands down an image of a hooded figure, half hidden behind a tree in one of the pictures. Only pale skin, thin pink lips, and the ends of wavy blonde hair were visible under the hood of her cloak. 

“Hey, kid, you never know,” Emma assured him, brushing off the feeling of deja vu the image was giving her. “Some people identify differently. Don't judge.” 

“Huh?” Henry wrinkled his nose. When she didn't elaborate, he shrugged her off. “Whatever. I don't have everyone in town figured out because not everybody's really featured in the book. So, he's probably not really a lady. Frankly, I think he might be Rumpel-- .” 

“Henry!” They both turned to see the mayor standing in the doorway, hands on her hips and glaring daggers at Emma. She stalked to their places at the counter. “Miss Swan,” she intoned as Henry forcefully shoved his book back into his backpack, slunk off of his seat, and stepped out from between them, “I'll thank you not to encourage Henry to skip school. You're lucky I don't have you locked up as it is.” 

Emma rolled her eyes. “Oh, my God, what is it with you, lady?” Emma stood up to meet her eye to eye. “I didn't tell him anything. Henry found me. Little shit skipped school.” 

“I got a call from the principal and had to leave the office and in any event you will not speak about my son that way!” 

“Your son is at fault in this!” Emma threw up her hands. “I was just eating. Trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do in this place if I'm gonna be stuck here for a week.” 

“A week?” Regina pulled a face. 

“Yeah, Mike Tillman said my car will take at least that long,” she huffed out. 

Regina's glower somehow intensified. “Well, stay away from Henry. You lost your rights to him when you gave him up.” 

“I know that!” She did. But her heart still gave a slight tug whenever she thought about the moment she heard his cry. Thought about shaking her head and refusing to even hold him once. “And to think I was telling him to go easy on you.” 

“I hardly need the charity of a , Miss Swan.” She turned on her heel and strode to the door, Henry falling into step behind her after casting a last baleful look at Emma. “This is your last warning. Stay away from my son.” 

“I can't help it if he finds me, Regina.” Emma shrugged. 

“You don't want me as an enemy...” Regina warned. 

She couldn't help it. Emma smiled. “Right back atcha.” 

With a huff, the mayor ushered Henry out of the diner, and Emma could actually hear the collective sigh of relief. She fished for a few bills from her wallet and met eyes with Hank, who looked sad as he exited the kitchen. 

“She's not usually like this,” he assured her. “That girl's just on edge. Her boy's been driving her up a wall.” 

“Sure,” Emma scoffed. “Look, thanks for the meal, everything was great until the mama bear tried to maul me...” 

Hank chuckled. “Not a problem. Come back soon.” 

Emma just smiled at him. Dude had to know he was basically the only game in town. 

She smoothed out her jacket and walked to the door, casting one more look back at the kind man behind the counter. 

******* 

Three days passed and Emma found herself settling into a routine. 

Sleep in. 

Have lunch Hank's. 

Check on her car. 

Get pissed off because Tillman manged to find something new to fix on it. 

Get tackled by the kid at some point during the day. 

Be forced to listen to his conspiracy theories. 

Inwardly dismiss said theories. 

Get yelled at by Regina. 

Laugh at Regina. 

Marvel at that vein popping in her forehead when Regina gets even madder. 

Get threatened/make threats. 

Have dinner at Hank's. 

Ditch the guy from the local paper who was totally stalking her. 

Get drunk at the Rabbit Hole. 

Stumble back to Granny's inn. 

Pass the fuck out. 

It made for a pretty full day, but she was kind of starting to see Henry's point about it being like “Groundhog Day.” She was also pretty sure that that was just a matter of this place having literally nothing interesting about it. 

Today was Saturday, though, so she decided to switch it up and take a walk through town. Hopefully, since there were more people out, she could figure out what exactly people did for entertainment around here. 

“Miss Swan!” She groaned at the cheery, accented voice. Graham was rolling up to her in his patrol car, leaning over the passenger's side to smile at her. “Having a good day, are ya?” 

“Why do I get the feeling you're about to ruin it?” Emma narrowed her eyes at him. 

The sheriff chuckled and shut off the ignition before coming out and joining her on the sidewalk. “Not at all,” he gave her a friendly smile. “I, ah, actually wanted to apologize about having to lock you up.” 

“Yeah, about that. Why were you right there when I almost hit that wolf that was totally really there,” Emma asked, hands on her hips. 

Graham threw his hands up. “The mayor asked me to follow you and make sure you actually left.” Duh. “She's very protective of Henry and you being here has her all riled up.” 

Also duh. “Oh, so when I'm not here she's all sunshine and rainbows?” 

“Well, no, not exactly,” Graham laughed. “Regina can be pretty... intense but she's really not a bad sort.” 

She honestly didn't know what to say to that. 

“I honestly don't know what to say to that.” 

“Say you'll join me for a drink tonight,” he smiles up at her through his... Long, luxurious lashes. 

Shit, it'd been a last time since she'd gotten laid. Although... “You asking on a date after you threw me in jail?” 

“Only if you'd like it to be,” he backpedaled. “I'd actually like to talk to you about your job as a bailbondsperson.” 

“And why's that?” Emma raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, it turns out that I've got the means to hire a deputy in the new budget and, well, there's not really anyone in town terribly qualified for the position.” 

Emma balked at him. “Graham, I'm only supposed to be here for a week.” 

“Henry seems to be convinced you're going to stay for longer.” 

“Henry seems to be convinced about a lot of things that aren't going to happen,” she countered. “You're gonna hire an out-of-towner who you jailed on her first night here on the recommendation of a ten-year-old?” 

“Well when you say it like that...” 

“Say it in any way that does make sense, Graham.” 

“Okay, fair enough.” The sheriff chuckled. “But the invitation for that drink still stands.” 

Emma drew in a deep breath and held it. 

“It'll be my treat and, if we do discuss our respective careers, I can give the receipt to Regina as an expense for the department.” 

“Ha!” Emma released the breath in a laugh. “Okay. You're on.” 

“Meet me tonight at the Rabbit Hole?” 

“Is there even anywhere else?” 

Graham laughed and took a step away to appraise her. “You know, you might come to like small town life, Emma.” 

She offered him a smirk. “I sincerely doubt it.” 

With a shrug, he stepped back from her, moving back towards the cruiser. “As long as I get your attention for one evening.” 

Emma rolled her eyes. 

“That's exactly the response I was hoping for,” he called cheerily as he opened the driver's side door, “cheerful contempt. See you tonight!” 

He got in and pulled away from the curb before Emma could think of a retort. 

“Such a weirdo. Such a cute weirdo with a nice little butt...” she mused as she resumed her walk, heading towards the shore. Okay. So a date with the cute town sheriff was definitely going to liven up her routine a little bit. 

Looking up, she saw that she'd stumbled upon a park. And, sitting on the railing of a very weathered wooden castle, was Henry. He was reading his book and hadn't noticed her yet. 

“Hey, kid!” Emma called, jogging up to the boy sitting on the pile of rotted wood and tetanus shots waiting to happen. 

“Emma!” He clambered down to meet her and threw his arms around her, not noticing the way she froze up, arms hanging over his head. 

“Uh, yeah,” she extricated herself from his grip. “That's... Yeah, hi, kid.” 

“What are you doing here?” Henry asked. It was a fair question; she'd never actually sought him out before. 

Hell, she had actually ducked into an alley and hid behind a dumpster to avoid him one day. She could have kept on walking today and he would never have even noticed her. 

Damn it. The little shit was starting to grow on her. That was definitely not a good thing. 

“I was just exploring a little,” she shrugged. She followed Henry towards a bench. “Haven't you read that thing backwards and forwards by now?” 

“Well, yeah, but I feel like I find something new every time,” he admitted, taking a seat. Emma followed suit. “Plus I'm still trying to figure out who everybody in town is.” 

“Right, yeah, the curse.” Emma leaned over to get a better look as Henry reopened the book. “You really believe this thing, huh?” 

“I believe it because it's true, Emma.” He said with certainty. “You can't tell me you don't notice something weird about this place.” 

“Oh, I notice plenty of weird stuff, but that doesn't mean there's some kind of black magic involved.” 

“Oh, yeah? What about my mom?” He crossed his arms smugly. 

“She's certainly something that rhymes with 'witch,'” Emma smirked at Henry's confused expression. For a kid who ran away across state lines to find her, he was really sheltered. Her battered inner child might actually have to thank Regina for that. “If she cast this curse, why wouldn't she just spell you into not giving her such a hard time?” 

“Because this is the Land Without Magic,which means-- .” 

“That there's no magic, yeah. Right.” How could she forget? “So, I'm here because it's... Fate?” 

“You have to break the curse!” 

“Your mom's curse.” Emma clarified. “Which means defeating your mom... Somehow.” Emma narrowed her eyes at him. “You don't want me to beat her up, do you? Because, let's be clear, I could totally take her, but I feel like it's not exactly appropriate.” 

“Well... I'm not so sure yet how,” Henry scrunched up his nose. “I think it might have something to do with True Love's Kiss.” 

Emma quirked an eyebrow. “You want me to kiss your mom?” 

“Ew. Gross.” 

Emma shrugged. Regina was an asshole, but she wouldn't exactly call the other woman 'gross.' “Kid,” she sighed, “why are you so hell-bent against your mom.” 

“Because she's evil!” he exclaimed. 

“She's not evil, you're just prepubescent.” 

“You saw her! She didn't even care that I was gone!” Henry cried, throwing his arms up in frustration. 

“She-- She was definitely concerned, Henry...” Emma mused, frowning. Emma had no doubt that she domineering mayor loved her son, but it was almost like she hadn't recognized him for a moment. The way her face paused in confusion for the split second before eyes widened and a gasp echoed in the otherwise silent night had stuck in Emma's mind. “Panic makes everybody do funny things.” 

“You don't understand,” he pouted. “It's like she forgets I even exist sometimes! She-- .” 

“Kid, does your mom mistreat you?” Emma interrupted. “Does she hit you? Swear at you? Does she neglect you?” 

Henry frowned. “Well... No. Actually, since you've been in town, she hasn't left me alone,” he caught the frown Emma was giving him, “but that's only because time started moving again once you decided to stay!” 

“I didn't exactly decide that...” Emma mumbled. 

Henry kept talking, apparently not hearing her. “And, either way, it's like she's a totally different person when she thinks I'm not around!” 

“Well, kid, your mom is entitled to being her own person. A lot of adults act differently when their kids aren't watching.” Emma stood up from the bench and stretched. “Consider that a life lesson. And go a little easier on your mom, okay? Believe me when I tell you that you could have it a lot worse than a mom who loves you but is prone to brain farts early in the morning.” 

“But Emma, you're the Saviour! You have to-- !” 

She turned around with a groan. “No, Henry!” She stalked back over to him and steeled herself at the sight of his trembling lower lip. “Now you've got to stop this, okay? I've been here for over a week now, and I don't exactly see misery everywhere I go. I just see life how it is and, sorry to drop this on you, but it's usually either boring or downright shitty, so I'm sorry that you're seeing everybody as miserable, but you can't treat your mom like shit, or- or go putting ideas into people's heads because, like, telling your teacher that David Nolan is supposed to be her husband? She's making eyes at him, and the guy is married. What about his real wife, Henry?” 

“Snow White is his real wife-- !” 

“Mary Margaret is single. You're messing with people's lives, Henry!” Emma threw up her hands. “I'm sorry, kid. I am. You came and you found me and you're hoping for a hero because you don't like how things are going for you, but I'm nobody's hero. Okay? Never have been, never will be.” 

“You-- You have to... You don't believe me?” He hiccuped. “My mom already treats me like I'm crazy. Dr. Hopper is nice, but I can tell he doesn't believe me either.” He wiped his sleeve under his nose. “I thought you would at least listen to me...” 

“Henry... I don't think you're crazy. I think you're going through some stuff. How long ago did you find out you were adopted?” 

“...Six months ago.” 

“And how long after that did you get that book?” 

Henry sniffled. “Miss Blanchard gave it to me about a week later to cheer me up.” 

No wonder Regina hated the sweet school teacher. 

“Do you see how that timing could have made things confusing for you?” She let out a sigh at the sight of tears streaming down the boy's face. “Shit like this... It's a part of growing up. And you know who could help you?” 

He shook his head. 

“Your mom.” Emma smiled sadly at him. “Now go home.” 

She placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him in the direction of Mifflin Street, trying to ignore the sight of his shoulders hitching as he walked, and neither of them noticing the story book abandoned on the park bench behind them. 

******* 

Three nights of going to the Rabbit Hole had given her a solid feel of the place and most of its regulars. But, this being a Saturday, it was more than just her and Leroy looking to close the place down tonight. Emma squeezed past Ruby dancing with Tillman's assistant Billy. She got to the bar and flagged down the bartender to get a beer when she felt someone step up behind her. Her shoulders tensed and turned around, hand clenched around the neck of the bottle. 

“Good evening, Emma,” she relaxed at the sight of the sheriff. Graham noticed her tenseness and took a step back. “Sorry if I startled you.” 

“Yeah, well,” Emma huffed. “Personal space, y'know?” 

“I'll keep my distance. I just wanted to let you know I got us one of the tables in the back.” He raised his hands when she raised her eyebrows at him. “It's quieter. Better for talking.” 

“'Talking.' Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” 

“Yes, they are definitely still calling talking 'talking,' Emma.” Graham slid into the booth. 

“Ha ha.” Emma slid in after him, glad she wore pants as she was sure that the pleather of the cushions would have stuck to her legs. “So, uh... Scotch man, huh?” She pointed with her bottle before taking a hearty swig. 

“Whiskey, actually,” he said after a sip. “Before we start, I'd like to know for sure if this is a date or if we're here to talk business.” 

Emma blinked. “We're... Killing Time.” 

Graham gave a breathy laugh. “Alright, then. I know we can't compare to Boston, but how are you liking our little town?” 

“Actually, I think my brain is melting from boredom,” she smiled brightly. “Every day I check on my car at Tillman's garage, and every day it seems like I'm going to be stuck here forever.” 

“There are worse things.” 

Emma pursed her lips. “Name one.” 

“You could be cursed like the rest of us...” 

“Wait, what?” Emma hand froze, her beer halfway to her lips. 

“Henry's book,” he laughed. “He says we're all cursed, yeah?” 

Emma let out a sharp laugh. “Oh! He told you about it?” 

“Regina might've mentioned it,” he admitted. 

That was weird. He must've seen her disbelieving expression. 

“Regina and I... We're... friendly.” He ducked his head to take another drink. “But the boy does have quite an imagination.” His smile grew back and in he leaned closer to her. “I don't think he gets it from Regina. Must be genetic.” 

“Yeah, well, I stopped believing in fairytales a long time ago.” 

Graham sobered. “I... Yeah. Must've been rough.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Emma narrowed her eyes at him. 

Graham scratched behind an ear, caught out. “I saw a bit of your history when I put you into the system that first night,” he admitted. 

Emma scowled. “Oh, that's not creepy of you at all. You wanna know my bra size while you're snooping into my life?” 

Graham brought his hands up in surrender. “Oh, no, Emma, I meant it. I really did only just glance. I didn't look any further than what was on the front page.” When he saw her expression relax, he brought his hands back down to cradle his drink. “Actually... If I can ask about one thing...” 

“One thing that you just happened to see?” Emma rolled her eyes. 

“Well, yes, actually. It said you were born around here. Is that true? You're a local?” He chanced a smile. 

Emma took a deep breath. “I was found near here, yeah.” She shrugged casually. “If you've read that much then you already know as much as I do.” 

Graham's smile fell. “Oh.” 

“Yeah. Plus, in the system, you move around a lot, so I'd hardly consider myself a local.” 

“Well, I just meant that it's quite the coincidence that your boy found you and brought you back here.” Graham clarified, sensing that he'd brought the mood down quite a bit. He gave her a small but sincere smile. “You found us.” 

She started at that. When he put it that way... 

“And, anyways, I really did mean no disrespect, Emma.” He continued on, not letting her wallow in the shitfest of her past. “I wouldn't have offered you the deputy position if I thought any less of you because of wherever you may or may not have been.” 

“Oh, not this again,” Emma whined. She signaled the bar tender for another beer. “I told you, I'm not even staying that long. It'd be a bad idea to give a position of power to someone who's really just passing through. You're gonna have to find someone else.” 

“Well I'm still excited about the hunt,” Graham shrugged. “It's the first time I'll have any help at the station in...” His smile dimmed as his brow furrowed. “Well, in as long as I can remember. It'll be good to have some help, not to mention company.” 

“Small town police station not exactly the hotbed of excitement, huh?” Emma teased. 

“There are three hundred and twelve ceiling tiles, if you count the bull pen, cells, office, and kitchen. Three ninety if you count the hallways. If that doesn't excite you, I don't know whatever could.” 

Emma accepted a new beer from their waitress. “How could I ever resist such a riveting sales pitch?” 

“I honestly don't know, Emma.” 

“Yeah, well, worry about me after another few drinks.” She paused, beer halfway to her mouth. “We are sending the bill for this to the mayor's office, right?” 

Graham laughed. “Absolutely.” 

As they both drank, Emma glanced at the handsome sheriff out of the corner of her eye. He was easily one of the most handsome guys she'd met in this town. Well, except for David Nolan, but there was something about him that she couldn't quite place, some alarm bell going off, so he'd be out of the running even if he wasn't already both married and being chased after by Henry's lovesick teacher. But, shockingly, Graham seemed like a genuinely sweet guy. Guileless in a way that guys as hot as him never were. Sure, he'd made no secret of the fact that he was interested in her, but he also hadn't pushed, and was content to be her friend if nothing else. 

Which... Weird. 

At the moment, Graham was people-watching. She followed his gaze to see Ruby leaving with the grease monkey, his arm around her shoulder and her hand in his back pocket, definitely squeezing Billy's little bubble butt. 

Emma shrugged. Good for her. 

“Good for her,” Graham unknowingly echoed her thoughts. “That girl works like a dog for Hank. She deserves a night out, and Billy's a good fellow.” He paused as Emma gave him a smile. “What?” 

“It's just nice that you care,” Emma explained. 

Graham shrugged. “I just like seeing people happy. Part of the job, I guess. Or at least, I'd hope that anybody wanting to be in public service is doing it for that reason. Just making sure that everyone lives happily.” 

Emma sighed in relief. She was half-convinced he was going to say happily ever after. 

She took another long drink from her beer. 

******* 

She was jolted awake by someone pounding on the door to the loft. Emma tried to ignore whoever it was but, when the knocking didn't cease, she groaned and kicked off the sheets, rolling to the side of the bed. She planted her feet on the ground and scrubbed a hand over her face as she stumbled to the door and swung it open to reveal an unfairly put-together Regina, a very nervous-looking Granny lurking behind her in the hallway. 

Emma looked down. 

Oh, good. 

She was at least wearing pants. 

“What the hell, Regina?” she barked, smoothing down her rumpled tank top. “It's, like, 2 AM!” 

Regina's nostrils flared as she forced her way into the room. “I assure you, I'd have been happy to have this done sooner, but I had to wait until you drunkenly stumbled back to your room.” 

“I'm not drunk!” Emma argued. 

“Oh, so a change of pace for you, then? How nice.” Regina swept her briefcase across the desk in the room, knocking Emma's keys and two empty beer cans onto the floor, before setting it down. 

Emma frowned. “What exactly do you need, Regina?” 

“What I need isn't important,” Regina informed her in a clipped tone. “What Henry needs is everything. What Henry needs is to not be cast aside like garbage, especially by someone who I would generously classify as trash herself.” 

Who the hell did Regina Mills think she was? “What the fuck-- .” 

“Henry came home in tears today, Miss Swan,” Regina informed her, fury in her eyes. “He wouldn't tell me why... Only that he had just come from the park.” 

Emma blanched. 

“With you.” 

“Aw, shit,” Emma sighed. 

Regina narrowed her eyes. “So, you admit it.” 

“I knew the kid was crying, but I didn't think he was gonna take logic this hard.” 

“You watch how you speak about my son,” Regina growled. 

“Your son thinks you're a fucking storybook villain, and I told him that you weren't so bad,” Emma informed the brunette. 

Regina froze for a moment, uncertainty in her eyes. Had she not known this already? 

“Of course, now I'm starting to second-guess that because what kind of asshole barges in on someone in the middle of the night to yell at them?” 

That sure rekindled the hatred in Regina's expression. 

“All that I am doing, you glorified drifter, is protecting my son.” She let out a disbelieving laugh. “My son who apparently thinks me a villain when you're an actual criminal!” 

Emma's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “What?!” 

“Oh! And that just so happens to remind me...” The mayor flips open the latches on her briefcase and flipped it open. “Turns out there's actually a law in the town charter about renting to felons,” Regina smoothly removed a tan folder and held it out. “Would you like a copy?” 

Emma eye-balled the folder. “That seems pretty thick for the charter.” Most of the small towns she'd found her perps in had municipal charters around 30 pages, tops. 

“Oh, this isn't the charter,” the mayor's smile turned predatory. “This is your file.” 

Emma scowled and snatched it from the smug woman's grasp. “I was a minor. These records are supposed to be sealed.” She flipped through the papers and felt herself pale. “This is illegal. How did you get these?!” 

Regina held up a placating hand. “My secretary gave it to me this afternoon. It was delivered anonymously.” 

“Yeah, bullshit.” She threw the folder onto the bed and ignored the papers flying out. “You've had Sidney Glass following me. Put his intrepid reporter skills to good use, did you?” 

“Actually, I haven't spoken with anyone from The Storybrooke Mirror in weeks. I've been trying to... Distance myself from Mr. Glass.” 

Huh. So even the manipulative mayor thought that Sydney was too much of a creeper to use. Which... Yeah. 

“In any event,” the mayor interrupted her thoughts, “this means that poor Mrs. Lucas now must force you from the premises.” 

Emma just stared at her. It's was stupid o'clock in the morning. 

“Well where the hell am I supposed to stay?” 

“Might as well leave town altogether,” she oh-so-helpfully suggested. “Especially since your history shows you to not be the type to put down roots, and I'd hate for Henry to experience the inevitable heartbreak of a second abandonment by you.” 

Emma bristled. “Listen you bitch-- .” 

“Mrs. Lucas?” Regina interrupted, ushering the older woman forward. 

Granny, for her part, was wringing her hands together and avoiding meeting Emma's eyes. “I'm so sorry, Emma.” 

“Granny...” 

“I have to give you the boot, honey,” she gave a small smile that immediately turned into a grimace. “I'll give you back the money for the rest of the week.” 

“I...” Emma looked between Granny and Regina helplessly. “Y'know what? Keep it. I don't blame you for this, Granny.” She made sure to turn a stony glare to Regina. 

Regina met it, victory shining in her eyes. 

“I've got a life to get back to anyways.” She didn't really, but they didn't need to know that. 

“Off you go, then.” Regina turned away. “You can have an hour to pack up your... Approximately five possessions. After that, I'll have the sheriff escort you back to your iron barred suite in the station.” 

Considering the moon eyes Graham had been giving her all night, she sure wasn't about to let him throw her in jail again. 

“How exactly am I supposed to leave when my car is still in the shop?” Emma argued. 

“Henry managed to take public transportation all the way to Boston,” Regina helpfully supplied. “Surely you're as resourceful as a 10-year-old.” 

God, she hated this bitch. 

“I'll be out in a half-hour.” She turned to start packing. 

“Have a good trip home, Miss Swan.” 

Emma stopped packing. “Oh, you misunderstand.” She waited for Regina to turn back towards her. “This isn't over, Regina.” 

Regina's face contorted into startling fury for the briefest of moments before it melted into a wide smile. 

“Very well, Miss Swan.” She turned on her heel. “There are plenty of benches in the park suitable for a vagrant. Have a good evening.” 

With a last jab called over her shoulder, the mayor disappeared down the hall, leaving a furious Emma and a defeated Granny in the room. 

“I don't know what's gotten into her,” Granny shook her head. “She's not normally this difficult.” 

“Shit, maybe you people are under her curse.” Emma turned and began stuffing things into her duffle bag. “Everybody keeps telling me that, but she has been nothing but shitty to me since I returned my son to her safe and sound.” She looked up to see Granny smiling sadly at her. “What?!” 

“You just called Henry your son,” she pointed out. 

Emma froze. Had she? 

She had. 

Oh, fuck. 

“I think we just figured out why she's so awful towards you.” Granny stood up, her knees popping. “Now you need to figure out what you're going to do next.” 

Emma sighed. That was a hell of a question, wasn't it? Regina was his mom. Absolutely. But she couldn't deny that she did care about the kid. She'd found herself thinking about what life would have been like tons of times before. 

If she could have just kept him. If she could have found a way. 

“I guess... Next thing is figuring out a place to stay.” Emma slung her bag over her shoulder. 

Granny nodded sagely. “Just be sure you don't hurt that little boy. You'll find most folks in town have a soft spot for Henry.” 

A small smile bloomed on Emma's face. “Yeah, the kid sure worms his way into your heart, doesn't he?” 

“If I can ask, hon,” Granny walked with her down the steps, “What are you going to do once you find a place?” 

Emma's smile dropped. “Regina was right about one thing. I was harsh on him today. I'm gonna figure out a way to make it up to him.” 

Granny smiled and pulled the surprised blonde into a hug. “Sounds like a plan.” She pushed Emma back at arms length to look her in the eye. “Go to it.” 

Emma found herself laughing at the older woman's enthusiasm. 

“Wish me luck. I feel like I'm gonna need it.” 

“You're gonna need more than that, girlie.” Granny chuckled as Emma walked out into the cool night air. 

That was true. Emma was a generally unlucky person, actually. So she was gonna need something else. 

******* 

The sign swayed violently overhead, seeming like an omen if Emma believed in those, which, no, thank you. The groaning and creaking of the supports didn't made her question what she was even doing there, though, as she held her hand on the knob. 

Of course, one night of sleeping in Henry's castle was enough and she didn't exactly want that news being spread around. 

Taking a deep breath, she carefully pushed the door open, just as a crack of thunder sounded the beginning of another downpour in this miserable little burg. 

Her groan at the thought of walking back out into the deluge died in her throat at the sight of all of the myriad of, fuck it, creepy shit filling up cabinets, lining the walls, and sitting on the shelves in the otherwise impeccable pawn shop. 

“Maybe we can get her to do it a little faster this time,” a whispered voice replied, “Save some time, save some heartaches?” 

“Ah, but where would the fun be in that?” Gold's voice came, making Emma shudder. 

There was a pause and a huff of laughter. “As much as I know you love drama, I'm not gonna drag it out any more than I have to, you asshole.” The sound of soft but agitated footsteps. Pacing, then. “She just has to get to a certain point. Then I'm done with this nightmare.” 

That voice was oddly familiar, but she just couldn't place it. 

“You'll never be done with me, dearie.” She could hear the snear in Gold's voice. Emma cautiously took a step forward. “Not until I find Bae-- .” 

Go fucking figure, the floor creaked underfoot. 

Emma froze, straining her ears, but silence filled the shop. She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when Gold popped his head into the doorway leading to the back. 

“Miss Swan!” he called, a little too loudly and with a little too big of a grin. “I didn't hear the bell.” 

“Thunder must've drowned it out,” she shrugged. “Did I interrupt something?” 

Gold's smile dimmed. “Not at all,” he recovered, limping to the front counter and resting his hands lightly on the glass. “What can I do for you, Miss Swan?” 

Emma rubbed at the back of her neck, snapped back into her current predicament. “I, uh, I've been banned from what was apparently the only hotel in town and I hear you pretty much own this place,” she grimaced at the predatory smile that spread across Gold's face, “So I wanted to know if you had any leads on a place I could stay?” 

“Alas, Miss Swan,” Gold twisted a ring on his finger, feigning sympathy, “there are no vacancies in town at the moment.” 

Emma clenched her teeth. 

“However,” his gold tooth flashed as he smiled, “I have it on good authority that Mary Margaret Blanchard is going to be needing a roommate soon.” 

“And why's that?” 

“I've been meaning to raise the rent for a while now. I've been too nice.” 

Emma blinked. “Sure. Okay.” She stuffed her hands into her pockets as Gold brought out his-- . Was that a flip phone? Jeez, Storybrooke, get it together. “So, what now, then? Has she listed an ad in the paper? Should I set up an interview, or..?” 

“Actually, I've just sent her your number. I'm sure you and the school marm will hit it off smashingly.” Emma jumped when her phone suddenly rang. “If that'll be all?” 

“Wait, what about the town charter?” 

“There's no law against letting a friend letting you stay with her, and since you'll not be on the lease, there's nothing Regina can do about it.” He waved her toward the door. “You'll want to be answering that before she hangs up.” 

Emma fumbled for her phone and answered once she was outside. “Mart Margaret? Yeah, yeah, this is Emma.” She turned back to glance through the shop's window. Gold had returned to the back room and she watched as a person in a hoodie followed walked past the open doorway. “Sure, I can come by. 15 minutes?” No accent, plus Belle didn't seem like a hoodie person. Hopefully Gold didn't have a side chick... Even though it was starting to look like Belle might have one. Or maybe Ruby was the third member of their throuple? “Oh, yeah!” Mary Margaret's voice snapped her back to the conversation. “Thanks, Mary Margaret. See you in a few.” 

Well, figuring out whoever Gold was doing on the down low would have to wait. She had her one shot at sleeping indoors waiting on her. 

******* 

Mary Margaret Blanchard seemed like a mousey young woman. Seemed like it, sure. But Emma could tell, after spending the afternoon with her in her loft, that there was a fire in her, too. She seemed to be the only other woman in town on Regina's shit list, so them living together to circumvent the no-felons law was sure to put a bug up the mayor's already tight ass. 

Emma had bumped into the woman a few times since being marooned here, but now that they'd actually spend a good amount of time together, Emma found herself feeling strangely at ease around her. There was just something about the young teacher and the two of them had hit it off right away. 

The only thing Emma was having a hard time with was the other woman's complete inability to hid her infatuation with the very much married David Nolan. 

“He's very handsome, don't you think?” Mary Margaret gushed. The brunette slid a fresh cup of cocoa into Emma's hands. 

“Uh, sure,” Emma agreed. The guy was one of the better looking men in town. “I think he's good looking. You know who else probably thinks he's hot? Kathryn. His wife. His wife Kathryn that he married.” She took a sip, enjoying the feeling of hot chocolate warming her up from the inside and watching for her new roommate's reaction. 

Mary Margaret seemed to deflate in front of her. “I-- I know. I know I shouldn't...” She seemed to cathc herself. “And I- We haven't done anything,” she assured Emma. “I just can't seem to get him out of my head.” She blew over the top of her own mug and looked up to meet Emma's stare through her lashes. “Is that crazy?” 

Emma didn't miss a beat. “Yeah.” She offered a smile as a small comfort. “But that's just dating in general.” She raised her mug. “To being single.” 

“To eternal misery,” Mary Margaret laughed and clinked her mug with the blonde's. 

The two shared a comfortable silence as they took their drinks. Mary Margaret laughed lightly as Emma let out a low moan. 

“That good, huh?” she smirked knowingly. “It's the cinnamon.” 

“That's the only way I'll drink it,” Emma confessed. “That's so weird. Nobody else does that.” Emma lifted the mug to her lips again... 

“Well, you are my daughter.” 

...And proceeded to spit hot cocoa all over herself and the table. 

“Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!” Mary Margaret leapt towards the oven to grab the dish towel off of the handle and began mopping up the spill as Emma gingerly held the fabric away from her chest. “I was just trying to make a joke. Y'know, about Henry's book?” 

Emma leaned over the sink and dabbed a wet paper towel against the stain. “Oh, yeah, yeah. Because you're Snow White.” She let out a sigh, stripped off her blouse, and threw it in the sink, leaving her in her relatively unblemished black tank top. “I'm okay,” she assured her still profusely apologizing new friend. “Guess hearing the kid's theories every day is starting to get to me.” 

“Well...” Mary Margaret gave her a sly look. “You do sort of have my chin.” 

Emma laughed and Mary Margaret beamed that her second attempt at a joke was better received. 

“If your cocoa making skills are any indication, you'll make a great mom, someday.” Emma tugged open the zipper on her duffle bag. 

“What was your mother like?” Mary Margaret sounded wistful. 

“I never knew her,” Emma grunted as she dug around for a new shirt. “I was abandoned at the side of the road when I was, like, a minute old.” She pulled on a faded Metallica t-shirt. “So I guess she wasn't exactly the maternal type.” 

“Oh, I'm so sorry, Emma,” Mary Margaret spoke softly. “I didn't know.” 

“Yeah, well, it's not exactly something I like to advertise.” She caught the pitying look Mary Margaret was giving her. “Because of exactly that look.” 

The school teacher blushed. “I wasn't...” 

Emma waved her off. “Don't worry about it.” She shoved her belongings back into the bag and took her seat at the counter again. “What's your mom like?” 

MaryMargaret sighed. “Um, she actually passed away.” 

“I'm sorry.” Emma blanched. 

“No, no, it's alright.” Mary Margaret assured her. “It happened...” She frowned. “When I was a little girl.” 

“How about your father?” 

“He died a few years after my mother. But they were very loving, I think...” The teacher wracked her brain for details. “Gosh, I haven't thought about them in so long. I can't even remember when the last time was. That's awful, isn't it?” 

Emma didn't think it was awful, and she said as much, but she kept to herself how she thought it was odd. But what did she know about parents, anyways? 

Not wanting to be a downer, Emma changed the subject. “Thanks again for letting me stay with you, Mary Margaret.” 

“I don't mind at all. In fact, it'll be nice to have the company.” She moved to collect the mugs. “The place gets a little lonely sometimes.” 

“Yeah, a lot of square footage, huh?” 

“But still cozy, I think,” Mary Margaret smiled and cast a look around her home. “And, most importantly, affordable on a small town elementary school teacher's salary. You're really helping me out by staying here.” 

Emma hummed noncommittally. “How long have you been teaching?” 

“Oh, boy. For as long as I can remember?” She shrugged. 

“As long as you remember...” Emma spoke under her breath. “Lot of that going around.” She cleared her throat at the odd look she received. “You, uh, you mind if I get settled in?” 

“Of course not! This is your place, too, now.” 

She never knew what to do with acceptance of all things, so the blonde slung her duffle bag over her shoulder and climbed the stairs to her bedroom, Mary Margaret on her heels. 

“How come you don't use the actual bedroom?” Emma nodded her head back at the curtained off space Mary Margaret used as her bedroom. 

The brunette laughed. “You know, I have no idea.” She watched as Emma began to pull items from her bag and put them into drawers. “The place came furnished and I guess I'm a little lazy at heart because I've just always liked the first floor better.” 

“So Gold just threw in a bunch of furniture for this second bedroom that you didn't even need?” She separated out shirts, pants, and underwear. Hm. She should probably get actual pajamas instead of sleep in her panties if she was sharing a space, right? “He hardly seems like the generous type.” 

From the way Mary Margaret's eyes widened, she figured she was right. Then she noticed exactly what the other woman was so transfixed by. As she was unpacking, she hadn't realized that she'd taken out her old yellow baby blanket. Blushing, she quickly snatched it back off of the bed and stuffed it back into the duffle bag. Mary Margaret blinked rapidly at the action, coming back to herself. 

“What is that?” she asked, staring at the now zipped-up bag like she could see through it. 

Emma flushed. “They found me wrapped up in that when I was a baby.” She picked the bag up off of the bed and laid it on the floor, out of sight. “It's stupid, right?” She let out a self-deprecating laugh. 

Mary Margaret shook her head. “No, of course not! Someone must have loved you very much to make that for you.” 

“But not enough to keep me,” she muttered bitterly. 

“Emma...” The brunette blinked back tears, not knowing how to respond to that. 

“I'm gonna take a quick shower.” Emma interrupted the flustered woman before she had the chance to actually verbalize her pity. 

“Sure, sure.” Mary Margaret moved to leave but lingered in the doorway. “It, uh, takes a second for the hot water to kick in so don't jump in right away.” 

Emma watched as she turned away. 

“Thanks, Mary Margaret.” 

The sweet brunette turned back towards her with a small, contented smile. 

“Welcome home, Emma.” 

******* 

On Monday Emma decided to skip pestering Tillman for a beetle update and decided to treat her new friend to dinner at Hank's. Mary Margaret was going to meet her there after she finished up entering some grades at the school, but Emma had gotten friendly with Ruby and Hank, so she decided to head there early and kill time between the diner's peak hours. It was the first time she'd been there between mealtimes, so she was surprised to see another waitress tending tables in Ruby's stead. The girl was super young and super pregnant. Like, Emma wouldn't be surprised if the girl went into labour right here, right now pregnant. 

“Oh!” The girl's knees buckled and she braced herself against a table, much to the discomfort of the older man who had been just about to bite into his sandwich. “Oh, no. Oh, no. No no no.” 

Emma leapt off of her bar stool and put her arms around the girl's waist, helping her into an empty booth that had yet to be bussed. 

“You okay?” She asked, eyes scanning the younger blonde up and down. 

“I'm... Ah. I'm alright. I think I'm okay.” Of course, the reassurances would have been more convincing if the girl wasn't clenching her teeth and starting to sweat. She wasn't really about to pop the kid out right now, was she? 

“Is there anything I can do? Anyone I should call?” Emma asked when she received no further information. 

“Ashley, is it coming?” Hank asked, rushing to his waitress's side. “Do you need me to call the ambulance?” 

“No!” The girl-- Ashely-- panicked. “No, no, it's not coming yet. It's-- Ahhh!” She hunched over and brought her arms around her stomach. “Oh, please, not now. I just need a little more time...” She pleaded to the empty air. 

What, was she hoping to finish her shift, first? 

“I'm calling the ambulance,” Hank announced, disappearing into the kitchen. 

Emma turned back to the waitress, who now had tears streaming down her eyes. And they didn't look like happy tears. 

“Hey,” she tried to sound more sure of herself than she felt, “It's gonna be okay. You'll... You'll feel better when it's over. Just... Breathe through the pain?” 

Emma let out an Oof! as she was unceremoniously shoved out of the way, her place by Ashley's side taken by the surprisingly spry Granny. The older woman took Ashley's hands and grasped them firmly, speaking to her in a voice that was somehow both soft and uncompromising. 

“You're going to go to the hospital, and you're going to have this baby, but first you're going to breathe for goodness sake, girlie!” The widow Lucas instructed. “And then you're gonna hold that little miracle in your arms and you won't even remember the pain.” 

Emma was very proud of herself for not calling bullshit on that one. 

“And he's not gonna be able to do a thing about it, okay? We're not gonna let him hurt you.” 

Emma whipped her head back to stare at that. “Wait, what?” 

Granny's eyes never left Ashley as she hooked an arm under the girl's underarm to hoist her to her feet. “Never you mind, because nothing bad is going to happen, you hear me, honey?” She have Ashely a light jostle to drive her promise home as she moved them towards the front of the diner where the lights of the town's one and only ambulance were approaching from the distance. 

Emma moved to Ashley's other side to give the weak-kneed waitress some added support and they made it down the front steps just in time to meet the EMTs as they hopped out. Emma stepped back, worried anything else she would do would just get in the way of things. 

“Granny,” Ashely waved the old woman over as she was lifted into the back of the ambulance. “Granny, don't leave me.” 

“Wouldn't dream of it, child.” 

And with that, Emma watched as Granny practically dove into the back of the vehicle and began barking orders she could still hear even over the sirens. 

“Huh.” Emma let out a sigh and turned back to the diner, her adventure done for the day and her coffee still warm and waiting for her at the counter. “You don't see that every day, do you?” 

Hank quickly walked past her, carrying a bin of dirty dishes and Ashley's abandoned tray from the booth she'd collapsed into. “No, you sure don't. Feels like that girl's been ready to blow for as long as I can remember, I swear.” He dipped into the kitchen to drop off the dishes before coming back to the front and washing his hands in a low sink behind the counter. “Just gonna have to see how everything goes after that baby is born...” 

Emma frowned. “Yeah, about that. I heard Granny telling her something weird. Something about a guy who wanted to hurt her? What exactly is that supposed to mean? Is her boyfriend abusive or something? Should we call Graham?” 

“Miss Emma, we've tried calling Graham about this a few times now, but the Sheriff's hands are tied,” the older man's eyes turned sad. “Ashley's boyfriend skipped out on her. Nobody knows where he is. And, either way, the guy who's coming for her isn't her boyfriend.” 

Emma supposed it made sense that it wasn't some punk-ass 19-year-old who had them all worried. “Well, then, who is it? Who could possibly be scary enough that you can't send the Sheriff after him?” 

Hank's expression hardened. 

“Gold.” 

******* 

The jingling of the bell above the door brought Lacey's attention up from filing her nails to watching the irate blonde striding purposefully towards her. Her bland expression didn't change, even as Emma Swan slammed her hands down on the glass jewelry case, rattling some of the items on display. 

“Where is he?” she demanded. 

Lacey popped her gum in the other woman's face. “Were you looking to buy something?” 

“Don't fuck with me, lady. Henry says you're supposed to be pretty smart.” 

The shopkeeper's wife pushed away from the counter and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Mr. Gold! Someone to see you.” 

It was pretty gross how she calls her husband Mister, but Emma wasn't here to get into the woman's relationship. 

Lacey ducked around Gold to head to the back of the shop as the man in question limped over to her. “Good afternoon, Miss Swan. What brings you into my humble little shop?” 

Emma snorted. “I'm here because the girl who works over at Hank's just went into labour.” 

“Ah, and you've come to deliver the good news?” He clapped his hands together. “How delightful.” He hobbled back over to the doorway to the storeroom and lifted his coat and a hat from a hook in the wall. “I'm off to see Miss Boyd.” He spoke softly to Lacey, who joined him walking into the shop again. “Thank you for the information, Miss Swan. I'll just be on my way to collect my due, now. Lacey can help you with anything else you might need in the shop.” 

Emma snapped herself out of her shock. “Hey! Wait a minute!” She chased after the shopkeeper. “What exactly are you due? You're not about to go shake the kid down for her rent while she's pushing out a baby, are you?” 

“No, Miss Swan, I'm going to collect the child. Miss Boyd filled out the adoption papers some time ago, and it would be cruel to leave the child in her care for longer than necessary. Wouldn't want her to bond with what she can't have. Now, if you'll excuse me...” He ducked into his car and drove off without another word, leaving Emma standing stunned in the middle of the road. 

She jogged back to the shop and found Lacey back at her perch, leaning on the counter. “Welcome back.” 

“You guys are planning to adopt Ashley's kid?” She asked, breathless. 

Lacey grimaced. “No, I'm not looking to be saddled with a child at the moment, thank you. My husband is arranging the adoption.” 

“Oh.” And Henry had said that Lacey Gold was nice. 

“Yeah, so, if that's all you need..?” Lacey pointed her emery board towards the front door. 

Emma frowned at the other woman and stalked out onto the sidewalk, just in time to bump into a determined looking Hank. 

“Oh! 'Scuse me, Emma,” he moved past her towards the pawn shop's front door, “I've got to talk to Mr. Gold.” 

“He's not here,” Emma informed the kind-hearted man. “He just left for the hospital.” 

Hank's face fell. “Oh, no, then I'm too late.” 

“Too late for what?” 

“Emma, Ashley didn't want to give up her baby. When she found out she was pregnant, she was scared and alone. Her parents had thrown her out of the house and her boyfriend just up and disappeared on her. So, when Gold came to her, she didn't think she could have the baby. He offered her a studio apartment, rent-free, if she let him handle the adoption. But that girl has gotten back on her feet, and she wanted to keep her baby.” 

Emma's face closed off tighter the more the man spoke. “What did she mean when she said she needed more time?” 

“She was trying to fight the contract,” Hank explained. “Albert Spencer wouldn't touch her case, but she was supposed to meet with Kathryn Nolan this week.” 

The blonde scrubbed a hand over her face. “Shit.” She knew exactly what Ashley felt like. Except Ashley lived in a small town, where everybody seemed to know everybody else's business. 

“I'm sorry Emma, I'm going to head over to the hospital.” Hank moved to hurry further down the road. 

Emma followed him. 

******* 

They arrived at the hospital to the sounds of Ashley's pained cries and the sight of Mr. Gold waiting patiently outside of the delivery room. The bastard was actually holding a bouquet of flowers, like he was gonna ask her to the prom or some shit. 

“Hey!” Emma stalked up to him, Hank hot on her heels. “You didn't tell me Ashley actually wanted to keep her kid!” 

Gold remained impassive. “Regardless of what she may currently want, I assure you that Miss Boyd signed the adoption agreement of her own volition. She was not under duress. I'm not stealing the child, Miss Swan. I'm only trying to ensure that the baby will have its best chance.” 

Emma's heart froze at his wording. That was how she'd felt when she gave up Henry. It didn't mean that she'd liked it, though. 

“Ashley was on her own when she made that deal with you,” Hank's argument knocked her back into the present. “She has a home now, a job, and people who support her.” 

Emma caught herself smiling at the owner of the diner. God, what she wouldn't have given for people like him and Granny when she was 19... 

“Actually, Mister Perez, her home was given to her as incentive for our agreement. Without my help, she would still be on the street.” Gold checked his watch. “In any event, it won't be long now.” 

As Gold returned his gaze towards the delivery room, Ashley let out another moan of pain. They could all hear Granny's voice, words indistinct but tone encouraging nonetheless. Emma felt Hank step up close behind her. 

“You should go inside,” he suggested. 

“What?” She barely knew the girl. 

“It's just... You've been through this, right? Maybe you can help her cope..?” He rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “I don't know. Maybe I'm over-stepping.” 

Emma shook her head, an idea forming. “No, no. I think you might be on to something.” 

She moved towards the delivery room door, ignoring the satisfied smile that crossed Gold's face, and gently pushed her way inside. She supposed that hospital security wasn't really a thing in such a small, unassuming town. Granny, her hand held tight by Ashley's white-knuckled grip, met her eye and nodded her over. 

“You've got a visitor, girl,” she spoke to Ashley, who was pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. 

Doctor Whale, who Emma recognized as the guy Mary Margaret had been avoiding after her ill-fated fling, stood up and ushered her back towards the door. “Now's not the best time. We're a little busy in case you haven't noticed.” 

“No! No, please, let her stay,” Ashley panted. Emma joined her on the side opposite the older woman. 

Closer now, Emma could see the tears slowly falling down the teenager's face. She took in a deep breath and leaned in close. 

“Ashley, are you sure you want to go through with giving your baby up?” When the younger woman turned away, she continued. “I went through the same thing, y'know. With Henry. And I know... I know that I did the right thing when I gave him up.” 

Ashley turned to face her, guarded hope in here eyes. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” Emma nodded. “But there's also not a day since that I haven't also thought about him. How he was doing. If he was happy. And not a day that I didn't regret, at least a little bit, that I wasn't a part of his life.” Ashley turned her gaze away. “Even now, seeing that he's had a great life, with a town full of people who love him, and mom who I'm fairly certain is actively planning to murder me because she loves him so much... Well, it makes me wish that I could have been a part of his life even more.” 

“Are you telling me not to do it?” Ashley asked before another contraction left her stifling a groan. 

“I'm not telling you what to do,” Emma assured her. “I am telling you that you have more options than I did. When I had Henry...” She took a deep breath. So far only a handful of people here knew this about her. “Henry was born in prison. I got pinched for some stolen watches and was doing time. I was a felon. I had nothing before I was arrested and I knew I'd have even less after they let me go. And I knew that I wouldn't even get to see my son regularly until I was out.” She offered Ashley a small, encouraging smile. “Your life is way different. You have friends. Hell, you have a family!” She nodded her head towards Granny, who was keenly watching their exchange with pride in her eyes. “You can make it. Ashley.” She dipped her eyes to meet Ashley's. “Do you want to keep your baby?” 

Tears filled her eyes as Ashley nodded. “But there's no way Mr. Gold is going to let me out of my contract.” 

Emma sighed. “Let me see what I can do.” 

******* 

“What do you want for the baby?” 

Gold looks up from where he was playing with him rings, one eyebrow quirked. “Despite the opinions of many in town, I am not actually in the habit of selling children. And I would hope that someone who was in the running for Deputy wouldn't be making me a cash offer.” 

She counted to three and spoke through gritted teeth. “Have you filed Ashley's paperwork yet?” 

“Not as yet, no. I'd like to be certain that everything goes as planned.” 

Gross. “What would it take for you to forget about it? Just tear up the contract and go on with you life?” 

Gold glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Has Miss Boyd sudenly come into the funds to pay the back-rent for her flat, her hospital bills, and have enough leftover to care for the child?” 

“No,” Emma admitted. “Pretty sure you're the only guy in town with any disposable income. Well, you and Regina.” 

“As much she works for her constituents, I doubt our mayor would be willing to fit the bill.” 

Yeah, Emma didn't think so either. Especially if Emma was the one asking. 

“Of course, I might be swayed if something more interesting came along...” 

“Like what?” She frowned at the smirk that grew on his face. “Ew, gross!” 

It was Gold's turn to roll his eyes. “You certainly think rather highly of yourself. No, Miss Swan, I meant that ,I might reconsider my arrangement with Miss Boyd if you would agree to do me a favour.” 

“What kind of favour?” She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Now that, I haven't decided yet,” Gold admitted. “You would simply owe me a favour, of my design, at a time of my choosing, and in return I will forgive Miss Boyd's debts and terminate our contract, leaving her to raise her precious child herself.” 

Now that seemed too good to be true. “And it wouldn't be anything illegal or sexual or anything like that?” 

“Again, no, thank you, Miss Swan.” 

Emma mulled it over. Sure, Gold was a creep, but how big a favour could she end up owing him if it wasn't illegal. She herself didn't have a lot to loose in terms of belongings. She didn't hold a position of power. 

Really, how bad could it be? 

“Alright,” Emma held out her hand. “You've got yourself a deal, Gold.” 

The pawnbroker eagerly grasped her hand and pumped it once before letting go. The moment was broken by the distant sound of a baby crying. “I suppose you'll be wanting to give Miss Boyd the good news, then.” 

The guy seemed to happy with how things had turned out. “You're not gonna ask for that favour now?” 

“You may have noticed, I like to hold onto things of value.” Gold handed her the bouquet of flowers. “Give Miss Boyd my congratulations.” 

Emma grudgingly took the flowers. “Y'know, I don't think I like how smug you are, buddy. And I already told this to Regina, but I guess you need it spelled out for you, too,” Emma got into Gold's face, “You don't want me for an enemy.” 

Gold smiled wide enough for his gold tooth to sparkle. 

“Oh, believe me, Miss Swan, I've never been your enemy.” 

******* 

It had been a long night after that. Emma found herself being hugged and kissed and thanked profusely by Ashley, Hank, and Granny. Ruby had come by when she'd come to the diner for her evening shift only to find the place closed up and a note on the door. She'd gushed over the baby (that Emma had been cradling in her arms at the time) and could not stop praising Emma for her actions. Ashley had promised to figure out a way to pay her back, which Emma had waved off. Hank had offered her free food for life, which she was seriously considering taking him up on. As it was, he'd already firmly informed her that she was not allowed to pay for the “I'm sorry I hurt your feelings when I disregarded your theories about reality” lunch she was having with Henry the next day. 

So, Emma found herself sitting opposite the kid, having ordered what was at this point her usual, and watching as Ruby set down a half-dozen plates in front of him. 

“Henry, I think you're taking advantage of Hank's generosity here.” 

The little shit gratefully accepted the chocolate milkshake (with extra cherries!) that Ruby deposited in front of him before giving them both wide smiles and taking her empty tray back to the kitchen. “Hank said it's okay, Emma,” he assured her. “Besides, I'm a growing boy.” 

She stole some fries from one of his many plates, earning him a scowl. “Oh, like you're gonna be able to eat all of this.” 

Henry met her eyes with determination. 

“Alright, just don't blame me when you get a stomachache,” she laughed. “And I don't want to get an angry call from your mom, either.” 

“She's not my mom,” he muttered, earning him a tired sigh from Emma. 

“Kid, she can't be all that bad. Technically, she could have had my ass thrown into prison several times over. My even talking to you right now is super illegal, and your mom is smart enough to know that. If she were really evil, and I'm supposed to be the good guy, then why wouldn't she just use the law to her advantage?” Emma reasoned. “She wouldn't even have to get her hands dirty.” 

Henry rolled his eyes. “Because she knows Sheriff Humbert likes you and would never do that to you.” 

“First of all, even if he did like me,” which he did, “Graham would still have to arrest me for committing a crime. Plus, I'm not talking about him. I'm talking state police. This much contact with you, when I have zero legal right to even look at your face, I'm talking felony charges. Federal prison, maybe.” She watched Henry's eyes widen in alarm. “Yeah. And, even if she does get a little scary sometimes, I would have killed for a mom like her growing up. Honest to God, straight-up murdered a hobo to get adopted by a beautiful rich lady who was gonna spoil the absolute shit out of me.” Hell, she'd still slap a stranger for a sugar momma or daddy. “You've got it good. Even if everybody was under a curse, this place... This place doesn't seem bad to me.” She frowned at that. “Actually, Storybrooke is one of the nicer places I've been to.” 

“I guess it's not terrible...” Henry actually sounded glum about that. “But it's definitely gotten better since you came to town.” 

Again with the hero worship. “As interesting as it is that me being the only visitor to Storybrooke has basically made me an instant backwoods celebrity, I really haven't done anything heroic, Henry.” 

“That's not true! You saved Ashley's baby!” 

“Gold wasn't going to do anything to the kid,” Emma clarified. “He was going to handle the adoption. I just made him a deal so he wouldn't file Ashley's paperwork.” 

“Wait, you made a deal with Mr. Gold?” Henry's brows knit together. Then his eyes widened and he scrambled to reach for his book before seeming to remember that he'd lost it. “Emma, this could be really bad.” 

“Yeah, I know, an as-yet unnamed favour to a creepy rich guy. I'll probably end up in a real-life version of 'Saw,' but it was the only thing I could think of to make sure that Ashley got to keep her kid.” She'd understood all too well wishing she could keep her child. But the kid was in front of her right now, way nicer and waaaaaaay smarter than he would have ever been if Emma had actually mothered him. 

“No, Emma, I think I just figured out who Mr. Gold was in Fairytale Land!” He exclaimed. At Emma's blank look, he continued. “He likes making deals?” He tried. “His name is Mister Gold, Emma!” He grabbed her by the arm and shook her as violently as a 10-year-old could. “Emma, you just made a mystery deal with the guy who trained the Evil Queen!” 

Fiction or not, that didn't sound good to Emma. 

“Emma, you owe a favour to Rumpelstiltskin!” 

******* 

Whatever Gold wanted, he didn't look to be in any big hurry to call in that favour. A few more days passed and Emma settled into a new routine, mostly consisting of spending time at the loft and harassing Michael Tillman for updates in between random Henry attacks. And, speaking of Tillman, her weekend had been rather interesting. 

“That was amazing how you managed to reunite their family,” Graham spoke with wonder in his voice as they settled into what was becoming their booth in the secluded back of the Rabbit Hole. “I can't believe I didn't see their connection, right under my nose. Makes me feel like I haven't been doing a good job as sheriff.” 

Emma placed a comforting hand on his arm. “You're a fine sheriff, Graham... But you might be a little too nice of a guy for the job.” She grinned when his touched smile dropped into a frown. “You just see the best in everybody and that can be a problem when law enforcement usually means looking for trouble. Besides, it's the least I could have done for those kids, and for Tillman since he's finally gotten the bug up and running again.” 

Graham looked away from her and took a sip of whiskey. “Does that mean you'll be leaving us soon?” 

“Actually,” she took a deep breath, “I've been thinking of extending my stay.” 

Graham beamed. “I told you you would.” 

“If only someone would give me a reason to stay...” Her smile turned coy as Graham got the hint and leaned in. Her eyes began to drift shut in anticipate... 

...Until they blew wide open and she shoved the amorous sheriff back into his seat. 

“Oh, what the hell!” 

There, right through the front door, strolled Mary Margaret Blanchard, David Nolan's arm around her shoulder. 

“It's always the quiet ones you don't suspect,” Graham mused, masking his disappointment at their interrupted moment. It'd be worth it if he got to see some of the blonde's fire, though. Unfortunately, that fire seemed to be directed at him as his unwelcome comment was met with an elbow to the gut. 

“She told me she was going to the library!” Emma exclaimed, outraged. “That little liar!” 

“And she knew you'd never set foot in the library,” Graham laughed, earning him another jab to the gut. “Easy! Assaulting an officer is a crime, y'know.” He rubbed at his sore ribs. 

“Is it a crime if you're also an officer?” She asked, turning her attention back to Graham. “Like... A deputy, maybe..?” 

Graham's jaw dropped. “You mean you-- You want the job?” 

She rolled her eyes as he grinned. “Relax, I just wanna be able to put a boot on Nolan's stupid pick-up truck.” 

“You want to stay,” Graham corrected. He looked at her in disbelief. 

Emma smiled sweetly, her irritation with her roommate forgotten. “I'm thinking about it.” 

******* 

The coffee at Hank's hadn't been anything special, but the guy had put in a cappuccino machine about a week after Emma had come to town. Henry, naturally, had claimed this as further proof that time started moving once Emma arrived, but that just meant that the place had finally entered the early 90s. 

It was still certainly a step up from Mr. Coffee, though, so Emma gladly ordered two to-go cups when Ruby came by for her order. Today was her first official day at the station and, while she didn't need to butter up a guy who already thought so highly of her, it couldn't hurt to ensure Graham was in a good mood as they ironed out her schedule. 

A gust of chilly wind tore into the diner as someone entered and took a spot next to her. From the smell of pricey perfume, Emma guessed it was Regina. 

A quick glance to her right and the sight of the brunette's signature scowl confirmed it. 

“I understand you've been spending quite a bit of time with Henry lately.” Regina's tone was a little too light. 

Emma avoided her eyes, searching for Ruby. “Uh... Yeah, we've had a couple, like, lunches or whatever.” 

“Hm.” Regina waited for Emma to elaborate. When Emma didn't answer, she flattened her lips into a thin line. “Henry still isn't speaking to me very much,” she admitted. “Is there anything that I should know?” 

“I... I did ask Henry to meet me at Hank's,” Emma admitted. “I wanted to apologize for hurting his feelings the other day in the park.” 

Regina nodded. The two women stood in an awkward silence. Emma began to fidget. 

Where the hell was her damned coffee? 

“So, uh...” She began, trying to fill the silence. “Looks like we're both going to be civil servants, huh, Regina?” She offered the mayor a cautious smile. 

“I heard.” Regina scoffed. “And I'm not terribly impressed. Not all of us sleep our way into our jobs.” Well, this was a new shade of pettiness. The mayor was positively green with envy. 

Wait a minute. “Were you two..?” she pulled a face. “And Graham never said anything?!” 

“We never put a label on it.” Regina scowled and looked away. “And it was a long time ago.” She pursed her lips like the admission had a foul taste. 

“Still would'a been nice to know if I'm gonna be your sloppy seconds.” 

Regina wrinkled her nose at the euphemism. “Thank you for that lovely visual, Miss Swan.” 

Emma almost laughed. Except that the other woman still looked very much like the jilted ex-lover. Hell had no fury like a woman scorned. And hell already had no fury like Regina Mills. That was, like, way more fury than Emma wanted to deal with today. 

“Is my seeing Graham a problem for you?” Emma asked, schooling her expression to look at least a little sympathetic to the older woman. She did like Graham, but she also didn't want to give Regina yet another reason to hate her, especially since she and Henry actually had started to bond. “I should have known the two hottest people in town were hooking up.” 

That earned her a strange look from Regina. “Yes... Well.” She smoothed down imaginary wrinkles on her jacket. “It really doesn't matter any more. I have too much self-respect to lower myself to fighting over a man.” 

Luckily for Emma, she did not. It'd been entirely too long since she'd gotten laid. “Well... As long as we're cool...” 

Regina scoffed. “I assure you, Miss Swan, you and I have never been 'cool.'” Ruby appeared with a to-go cup and wordlessly handed it to the mayor. She sighed and accepted it, moving to walk away, but halted after only a few steps. “Tell Graham...” She shook her head. “Nothing. I just hope he's happy.” 

With that, Regina left, her head lowered and hands jammed into the pockets of her coat. 

Huh. She didn't know why, but Emma had expected more of an explosion from the mayor. A threat. A flying kick to the ovaries. Something. But Regina had really seemed more saddened than angry. Emma actually felt kind of bad. 

Not, y'know, bad enough to not sleep with Graham, but still pretty bad. 

******* 

It turned out to be a pretty slow day. Graham hadn't been exaggerating when he said that things were pretty quiet in Storybrooke. If she had been doing this job by herself, she would have shot herself in the foot about an hour in just so she could say that something interesting had happened that day. 

Eventually, the light-headed feeling she was getting was due to more than just the kiss and Emma had to full away for air. She felt the goofy smile bloom on her face to match Graham's and, for once, she didn't care. “Well, that livened today up, didn't it?” She teased. “We should do that every day.” 

Graham didn't respond, instead staring intently into her eyes, his smile slowly dimming. Confused, Emma's own face fell briefly before Graham dove in for another kiss, this one somehoweven more passionate than their first. This time when they broke apart, Graham held their foreheads together, his hand having moved up to tangle in her hair. He breathed deeply before letting out a laugh. 

“You did it.” He lifted her up by the waist and spun her around, drawing out a peale of laughter from his deputy. He set her down and beamed her. “Emma, you broke--” 

The words died in his throat and his face contorted into a mask of pain. He clutched at his chest, hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, and began to gasp. His knees gave out and he collapsed into the stunned blonde's arms. 

“Graham? Graham?!” She lowered him to the ground and began slapping at his face, but he remained unresponsive. “Graham, c'mon, wake up.” She leaned in close to his mouth. He wasn't breathing. She sealed her mouth over his and exhaled, starting CPR. “1... 2... 3...” She breathed out, pumping down on his chest. 

Nothing. 

She started again. 

“Oh, my God!” Emma jumped at the sound of Ruby's exclamation. The waitress took the scene in and dove at Graham's desk to call for an ambulance. 

The sirens arrived in mere moments and Emma leaned heavily on Ruby's shoulder as he was carted off. Emma watched, numb, through the whole process, only taking in the sound of the sirens and the sight of a figure leaning against Game of Thorns across the street, wearing a knit cap and a slim jacket, collar upturned, passively flicking a cigarette into the street as they also watched the ambulance pass. 

******* 

Ten days passed since Graham died. After going to the funeral on auto-pilot and being questioned about that awful night, Emma had spent most of her time ignoring Mary Margaret's attempts to check on her during the day and falling asleep hugging a bottle of cheap vodka by night. As such, she hadn't seen Henry, but the boy also hadn't sought her out. On the eleventh day, she found herself waking up on the couch, covered in the contents of an overturned box of Fruity Pebbles and with a mouth tasting distinctly like butt. She blinked at the sunlight, wondering what had woken her and unashamedly shoving a handful of half-crushed cereal into her dry mouth. 

Someone knocked at the door, so Emma reasoned that that was probably what had woken her in the first place. She picked at her wedgie as she stumbled to the door. She opened it without checking through the peep hole, legitimately not giving one single, solitary fuck about who had come to check up on her. She barely registered Archie Hopper standing in the hallway, nervously twisting the hat he held in his hands, as she moved back to slump onto the couch. 

The therapist stood frozen for a moment before stepping into the apartment and gently shutting the door behind himself. “Hi, Emma,” he greeted her as he swept aside a crushed bag of potato chips and a pile of discarded candy bar wrappers before gingerly taking a seat on the coffee table in front her. “I'd ask how you were faring but I can see that you're not doing particularly well.” He wrinkled his nose. 

Emma was pretty sure it was because she hadn't showered in about a week. 

“Emma, I thought we could talk.” He offered her one of his serene little smiles and Emma wanted to slap it off of his stupid ginger face. “Mary Margaret tells me that you've been taking Sheriff Humbert's death rather hard.” 

Okay. Emma reached for the bottle sitting on its side on the floor. There were at least a few ounces left in there... 

Archie firmly pried open her fingers and took the bottle from her shaky grasp. “You don't need that,” he assured her. “You need to work through this. I'm here as long as you need me.” 

“I don't need your help,” she muttered, lying down and throwing an arm over her eyes. 

“Mary Margaret told me that you haven't been very responsive to her attempts at getting you to open up. That you're not used to expressing your feelings.” He pulled out a pad of paper and clicked open a pen. 

“Feelings are stupid and I don't want them.” 

He let a breath that might have been a laugh. “We all certainly feel that way sometimes. But I can assure you that you'll feel better when you talk to me. It'll help you to move on.” 

Emma barked out a laugh. “I don't want to move on, Archie!” She sat back up again and immediately regretted it as her head throbbed. “I don't... I don't stay in places this long. I don't make these connections to people. I learned a long time ago that it's better if you leave before you get left and somehow... Somehow this stupid town made me forget that and now...” She laughed again. “Graham was a good thing in my life. I don't... I don't want to...” 

“You feel like moving on means leaving him behind,” Archie supplied. 

“I...” Yeah. Yeah, that sounded about right. 

“But Emma... Those we love are always with us.” 

“Love? I didn't...” She sniffed. “Damn it, Archie, I don't want to talk about this.” She moved to snatch the bottle back from him, but he pushed it behind himself. 

“Okay, then, we won't talk about you,” he surrendered. “I actually do need to talk to you about Henry, though.” Seeing that he'd gotten her attention, albeit grudgingly, he continued. “Regina has sent Henry to see me every day since Sheriff Humbert's death and it's been going less than stellar. There's nowhere in Storybrooke that didn't feel the sting of this tragedy, but Graham's death seems to have hit Henry particularly hard. He and Regina had been friends for as long as I can remember, so the man was a fixture in Henry's life. I'd even dare to say that he was Henry's father figure. And so, as understandable as it is that the boy is having a hard time with this, I came to ask you to come back to him.” 

Wait, what. “I never left him.” Shit. “Or, y'know, not since coming to Storybrooke...” She frowned. “Shit, gimme the damned bottle, Archie!” 

He smiled at her. “No.” Setting down his pen and pad, he leaned forward into her space. “Henry hasn't seen you at all since the funeral. He lost his most influential male role model, he's still not talking to Regina, even though she's also grieving, so that leaves one more parent for him to turn to.” 

“Parent?” Emma frowned. “But I'm not-- .” 

“Then why are you still here?” He interrupted. “You love the boy. And he loves you back.” 

She was not going to cry. She hadn't shed a single tear about Graham. She'd been doing fine. She wasn't going to cry about this. 

Damn it.  
“Okay,” she wiped at her eyes. “Okay, you manipulative asshole, I'm gonna take care of this.” She ignored the therapist's triumphant smile. “But there's one thing I have to do first.” She wrinkled her nose. “Two if you count taking a shower.” 

******* 

Emma shifted her weight from foot to foot as she waited, staring at the mansion's whitewashed front door. She'd knocked... Oh, 30 seconds ago, and had yet to hear any sounds of life from within the house. She huffed out a breath, about to turn away, when the door swung open to reveal the mayor, wearing a flour-dusted apron and wiping her hands on a dish towel. 

“Sheriff Swan,” she greeted, hiding her surprise behind a guarded expression. “What can I do for you?” 

Emma rubbed at the back of her neck, suddenly unsure of herself. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” 

“You have a talent for understatement.” 

“I actually really do,” Emma offered a smile. “I was hoping we could talk this whole mess out.” 

Regina held her gaze for a moment, long enough for Emma to squirm under the older woman's intensity. Apparently coming to some sort of internal conclusion, the mayor let out a light breath and gave a small smile. 

“How would you like a glass of the best cider you've ever tasted?” 

Emma returned the smile. “Sounds great.” 

Regina stepped aside to allow the blonde to come into her home. Emma couldn't help but take in the high ceilings, the beautiful staircase, and the stylish (if a bit severe) décor. 

“Your place is gorgeous,” she complimented. “Henry's a really lucky kid.” 

The proud smile that flit across Regina's face at the comment about her home fell at the mention of her son. “Yes, well, I wish he agreed with your assessment of the life I've tried to give him.” 

Emma winced. “He's a great kid. Sweet and smart.” She chuckled. “God knows he must've gotten that from you.” 

“Don't sell yourself short, Sheriff Swan; you've proven yourself to be fairly clever,” Regina grudgingly admitted. “Otherwise I'd have had you out of Storybrooke in a day.” 

“And that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Emma followed the other woman into her kitchen and watched her pull a carafe out of her refrigerator. “I've got a job and a place to stay. I've made friends. You know I'm not going anywhere.” 

Regina's lips thinned but she didn't answer. 

“I'd really like to get to know Henry better, but I do need your permission for that.” 

“And there it is,” Regina snapped. She forced a glass of chilled cider into Emma's hands and turned to the French doors leading to the back yard. “Join me out on the back porch, would you?” 

“Uh... Sure?” Emma followed her dutifully. The back yard was bigger than Emma's apartment back in Boston (which she was really going to have to do something about before she blew too much money on a place she wasn't going back to). Tall hedges lines the edges and offered privacy. In the center of the perfectly manicured lawn stood a small apple tree, which was currently being tended to by a ruggedly handsome man with sandy blonde hair. 

“Have a seat,” Regina instructed as she took her own. “Jay!” She called to the landscaper. “That'll be all for today, if you'd like.” The man tipped his cap towards her without a word and gave her a grin before he left. 

Emma wisely decided not to comment on the faint blush that dusted the mayor's cheeks and just took her seat in the bistro styled chair across from Regina. 

When the brunette remained silent, instead simply sipping her cider and looking out across her back yard, Emma cleared her throat. “This really is the best cider I've ever had.” 

“I know, dear,” Regina replied with the ghost of a smile. She took another sip and seemed to be contemplating the liquid left in her glass. 

“Henry hates me.” 

The blonde frowned at the admission. “I don't think he-- .” 

“And I deserve it.” 

Okay, that was enough. “Regina I don't think that's true.” At the brunette's raised eyebrow, she continued, “Either part.” 

Regina chuckled darkly and set her glass down. “He has told me that he hates me. I asked him if I could read his book, but he told me that he lost it and that he would never let it fall into the hands of the Evil Queen, anyways.” 

“Yeah, why does he think you're her, anyways?” Emma asked, leaning forwards and holding her glass with just her fingertips. “I mean, unless you're obsessed with being 'the Fairest of them All' and I just haven't noticed you constantly talking to mirrors..?” 

Regina rolled her eyes. “Well, I do hate your roommate, who is apparently supposed to be Snow White.” 

“And I bet the love of apples doesn't help,” Emma shot back, not rising to the bait. 

Surprisingly, Regina's lips quirked upwards. “I'll have you know I make the best apple pie in town.” Regina grinned. “Even better than Hank's.” 

“Nah, I'm guessing the love of apples probably something to do with the cute guy who tends your garden,” Emma enjoyed watching the normally unflappable mayor's face flush. “Surprised you don't do it yourself. Don't all rich ladies love gardening?” 

“Oh, I have a black thumb,” Regina admitted. “Sometimes is seems like everything I touch withers and dies...” Her brows drew together, like she'd just managed to hurt her own feelings. 

Emma found she didn't like the look on the older woman. “Is that what you were making when I came in?” She asked. When Regina turned an inquisitive look towards her, she clarified, “Apple pie.” 

“Oh!” Regina sat back, her inner turmoil forgotten. “No, I was actually baking some fresh bread.” 

Jesus. Okay, Martha Stewart. “Well, maybe someday I could try some,” Emma suggested, trying to ignore the jealousy at Regina's ability to be both perfect homemaker and HBIC. 

“Maybe.” Regina shrugged noncommittally, but Emma could tell she was winning the woman over. 

The two women breathed in the shared silence of their moment of understanding. 

“The apples should be ready for harvest in the next few weeks. Henry and I usually pick them together, but I think I'll just ask Jay to do it this year,” she mused. 

“Hey,” Emma surprised herself by placing a hand on the mayor's. Apparently, Regina was just as shocked by the gesture. “Things are going to get better between the two of you. Especially if we can just bury the hatchet between the two of us.” 

Regina's eyes lingered on Emma's hand, making the blonde pull it away. After a deep breath, the older woman closed her eyes. “I don't remember much of my own childhood. I think I must have blocked it out, but I do know that it wasn't... Ideal.” She let out a frustrated breath through her nose. “My mother was a difficult woman. I'd say she made a lot of mistakes with me, but I know that everything she did was done willfully. I've tried to be a good mother to Henry. I've given him everything he could ever have asked for.” To both women's horror, the mayor sniffled. “I don't want him to hate me the way I do her. Damn it.” She angrily swiped at the tears pooling in her eyes. “The only thing I've ever denied him was you. And since you came to town, I've been...” She stood abruptly and began pacing, one hand tangled in her hair. “I've been like a different person. I don't feel like myself.” He arms dropped limply to her sides. “I feel... So angry. All of the time.” 

“I really am sorry about all of this, Regina,” Emma spoke softly after a moment to plan her words. “I didn't mean for all of this to happen, but... I mean, how could I think that I wouldn't start to care about Henry? Henry's a lovable kid.” 

Regina gracelessly sat back into her chair, but she smiled wistfully. “That he is” 

“We've just both got really strong personalities, so we were bound to clash,” Emma reasoned. “Better that we did sooner and we can hopefully get over it.” 

“It's not always something you can get over,” Regina countered. “The only other actual opponent I've ever had in town has been Gold. I can't stand the bastard.” She sneered into her drink. “The smug son of a bitch walks around like he knows something the rest of us don't.” 

“I didn't realize you two were on such bad terms...” Emma reached for the carafe to refill her glass. She felt more at ease than she had since before Graham's death. “So you think we can actually get along a little better? For Henry's sake?” 

Regina didn't hesitate. “Absolutely.” She offered her hand to the blonde, who took it and shook firmly. Regina took a deep breath and stood back up. “What time is it..?” She checked her watch. “Oh, I need to get started on dinner...” Her eyes drifted to the blonde. “Unless you'd like to take Henry to Hank's?” 

Emma felt a smile blossom onto her face. “Really?” 

“I want to show him that I'm not the bad guy, here,” Regina spoke firmly. “If letting him spend time with you every once in a while helps with that, then that's what we're going to do.” 

Emma stood from her own chair and her smile grew into a wide grin. “Thanks, Regina.” 

“And while you're at it, I'll look into what it takes to revise that bit in the town charter about renting to those with a criminal history...” The mayor muttered. “Since you really are planning to stay. No one should be limited to staying with Miss Blanchard.” 

Emma stifled a laugh as they picked up their glasses and walked back into the house. “It is nice having a roommate, but it's also nice knowing I'd have the option to get my own place without having to strike another shady deal with Mr. Gold.” Emma followed Regina to the front entrance and slipped on her shoes when a thought struck her. “Hey, wait. Gold owns half the town.” 

Regina rolled her eyes. “A fact which he is not too shy to share, I see.” 

Emma waved her off. “No, I mean, if you guys hate each other so much, how exactly did you become mayor, then?” 

“I...” Regina paused, her hand on the front doorknob. 

“I mean, he's got to have a lot of influence, and you must've been pretty young when you first ran, because Henry said you've been mayor here for his whole life, right?” Emma reasoned, not noticing the other woman's confusion. “How long have you actually been mayor of Storybrooke?” 

“For...” Regina's eyebrows were furrowed together, searching for the answer. “For...” Her jaw went slack for a moment before her expression relaxed and her tense shoulders dropped a bit. When she spoke it was with certainty, not showing any of the confusion from a moment ago. 

“For as long as I can remember.”


End file.
